I see him.
A tall boy with sun-kissed bronze skin. My eyes lock onto his and don’t let go.
One eye is icy blue, the other, hazel green. He looks at me, not really seeing me, as his stare passes straight through. His black hair is wet, greasy, and falling over his forehead. He drags a hand through it, pushing it back, but two stubborn strands fall loose again.
As he walks closer, Catherine’s voice and Ella’s chatter blur into background noise. All I hear is the leather of his jacket and pants screeching softly as he moves toward us.
He parts his full lips. There is stubble along his tight jaw, on his upper lip, and a little on his cheeks. He doesn’t say a word. He leans in toward Catherine and presses two fingers to his forehead in the air toward me.
Who are you?
“This is Judas,” Catherine says. “Your brother.”
Well. That answers that.
“Carmen,” I say. Heat rushes into my cheeks as my gaze drops to the floor. My fingers find a loose strand of hair and tuck it nervously behind my ear.
He still doesn’t say a word.
I lift my head again, my eyes skirting past his instead of meeting them.
Rude.
He smirks. One corner of his mouth lifts as he drapes an arm over Ella’s shoulder and starts toward the staircase. Halfway there, he turns his head and looks back at me.
This time, he really looks.
“Well, that was awkward,” I murmur under my breath, taking a small step back.
“No, dear. No,” Catherine says as she comes closer and rests her hands on my shoulders. “Judas can be a bit guarded, but I am sure he will treat you like a sister once he gets to know you.”
Sister.
I swallow, my spit suddenly stuck in the middle of my throat.
Sister,I repeat in my head.
“Let me show you around,” she says, but her words fade when Simona’s voice comes in from behind us as she speaks to Judge Harrington.
“We still need to take care of the paperwork.”
I look at her. In my eyes, there is only one thought. I want to get out of this place. In hers, she wants to be done with me.
The door closes.
The judge guides her inside while Catherine grips my arm and pulls me toward the stairs.
This is supposed to be a new beginning.
Somehow.
For me, it feels like another attempt at an ending.
When you grow up like I did, believing you don’t deserve nice things, you learn that every good thing in life has to be earned. And I have nothing to offer.
Catherine doesn’t see that. She is too excited. Maybe she wants a new toy to dress up in expensive clothes and parade in front of her wealthy friends. Someone she can show off to.
I am not that.
